Fiora Laurent
by Neoslate
Summary: The one ghost from League Champion Fiora Laurent's past returns to haunt her causing her to question her past and the very perception of her own life. She must search for the answers at whatever cost even if it must take to the most horrible of places, such is her desire for closure and an end to her doubts.


Fiora Laurent observed the dark-haired boy from under her glasses, her cane ready to snap on any opening he left for her. Surprisingly he had lasted the first thirty seconds of her onslaught without sustaining too many hits. None of them were critical either, which caused her to slow down and think through her next set of lunges. He had managed to show an unusual flexibility in style and an uncanny ability to read her blatant combinations during the bout. Though despite this she knew that anyone who had studied her matches in the League would have been able to read those combos since they were her bread and butter.

It did not matter how much further the bout went now, he had already proven himself worthy enough to gain entry to her sword school but something told her he still had more in him to show. Perhaps it was a lack of puffing or maybe even the unusual shifts of weight from one foot to the other or, most likely, the glint in his eye that told her he wasn't finished. She realised that, altogether, the factors causing her consideration were a sure sign that this bout definitely wasn't over. As she leaned in low to her next forward cross she saw the slight error she had made but it was then that he also made, what she perceived, was his biggest mistake this whole bout in that parry. She only realised it was an invitation when it was too late and her thin cane was already sliding into the ground, leaving her momentarily open to the riposte. Though the move was no problem for her, she was still startled by it. She had not seen its like in a very long while_. How dare he use this style against her_. She crossed backward, head back, as the upward cut barely missed her chin. Letting her mind wander over painful memories and the rage they generated, she let instinct drive her to her trademark, the Blade Waltz.

He was no match for her when she began, her passes barely even visible to the trained eye let alone the untrained one. _YOU DARE USE THAT AGAINST ME!_ She fumed internally. One could only catch glimpses of her when she changed direction at the end of a pass. Each pass hitting with such strength that the boy was forced away from the blows only to be hit into others. One pass struck him in the back of the right leg, forcing him to his knees. _YOU DARE SHOW YOUR FACE HERE!_ Her thoughts shrieked. In the space of about five seconds the boy had around fifteen extremely harsh welts already beginning to bruise, one on his right calf starting to bleed from the sheer savagery of the attack.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" shouted the referee, a stern, well-built man sporting a long, black ponytail, "Save it for the fields Fiora!"

Xin Zhao crossed the room and approached the kneeling figure who was already oozing blood from nearly all his welts. Helping him to his feet he whispered out of earshot of the angered Headmistress, "You did well child, I haven't seen someone shake her up since her father..." He left the thought unfinished. Anyone who came to this Academy already knew the history of Fiora Laurent, there was no need to speak of it.

As the Seneschal helped the prospective student limp toward the infirmary, Fiora just stood hanging her head, her long fringe covering her eyes, cane resting on the floor at her feet. _If he were to see her now..._ She left the thought just as unfinished as the words Xin thought she had not heard. Anger had given way to shame as she realised the full extent of the last thirty seconds. Only one man in the world knew how to get inside her head like that in a fight and she had publicly shamed him for the cheat he was, taking his title as the head of her family and banishing him into the wilderness of Kaladoun, never to set foot on Demacian soil again. _Father... Wait. The boy. How did he learn that? Where did he learn it? Who had taught him? Could it be him?_ A cacophony of a thousand questions entered her mind and she needed the answers. She stormed from the room with one goal in mind. _I will find out the truth_.

The doors seemed to burst open as she stormed into the infirmary, rapier in hand, the fury clear on her face. Due to the loud entrance Xin Zhao looked up as she crossed the room toward the prospective student lying, heavily bandaged, in the bed. He wasn't conscious but that didn't matter to her. She needed answers. She stopped beside the bed, her eyes darting around the room for a way to wake the boy. She spotted the small bag of liquid connected to the boy's wrist that was keeping him hydrated.

"Fiora. The healers said not to wake him." said the Seneschal quietly as if anticipating what she was going to try.

She only gave him a sideways glance before reaching out, grabbing the bag and squeezing it hard.

"Fiora!" Xin jumped to his feet in both disbelief and protest. _This wasn't what he had taught her.  
_

The result was instantaneous. The student sat upright and screamed hoarsely, his eyes wide with the shock. Fiora let go of the bag releasing the pressure on his veins nearly causing him to go limp and almost lose consciousness again. Wearily his eyes slowly pivoted to where she loomed over the bed and they narrowed as they met the silhouette of her body.

"What's your name?" she demanded.

A glare was the only reply she received. Anger welling up even further, she placed her blade at his throat and repeated the three words.

"Entus" came the reply from behind gritted teeth.

"Where did you learn that?"

The glare only deepened into a deep anger resembling something between outrage and deep-seeded hatred. The rapier point pressed harder against his throat, drawing a droplet of crimson. Again Fiora repeated her earlier phrase. Though when he began the barely audible whisper of his answer her eyes widened at in complete surprise. He did not even complete it before the thin blade dropped to the floor with a loud clang. Even the usually stern Xin Zhao was utterly surprised as the answer seemed the echo around the room and hang there like a bad scent.

"Noxus"


End file.
